


Yeah, That Wouldn't Do

by countingcr0ws



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Dates, Best Friends, Clubbing, Cohabitation, Cute, Drama Student Louis, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Louis is amazing, Love Confessions, M/M, OMCs because Louis' figuring things out, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:17:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6516262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countingcr0ws/pseuds/countingcr0ws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Harry are childhood friends. They are soulmates. They sleep in the same bed, alternate household chores weekly, marathon Criminal Minds, memorise each other's schedules, but they aren't together. Harry doesn't date much, and Louis has the pickiest tastes in the people he meets. It's just a coincidence that the qualities he looks for are all the bits of Harry that he loves. Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emeraldequator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldequator/gifts).



> Britpicked and beta-ed by [Scarlett](http://truthtattoos.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. I'm so proud of myself for getting that done. 
> 
> I hope that I did your vision justice!

“Louis.” 

Louis looked up from his phone at the call of his name before walking up to the collection counter to greet the barista with a smile. 

“Hope you enjoy your tea,” Trevor the barista offered, voice silky with the suggestion of more. 

Louis hummed at the sentiment. The boy was attractive enough, plush bottom lip working with his nondescript dirty blond hair to make his face a little less commonplace. 

“I will—if it’s as good as your smile,” he replied with a wink as he took the cup, internally cringing at how clumsy his comment was. His brain was just so exhausted after his morning class, but judging from the smile spreading across Trevor’s face, it didn’t seem to matter anyway. Deciding to reward the other by injecting a little more movement to his hips, Louis smirked at the weight of the barista’s eyes on his behind as he turned to leave. 

-

The weather was still a little nippy outside. Spring was coming, but not fast enough, and Louis tugged the front of his coat close as he headed towards the student union canteen to meet Niall and Liam. Pausing when he noticed the scrawl on the side of his cup, Louis broke into a smirk at the effort. He was probably going to call Trevor up, he decided. Boys who took initiative to get things going was a turn on for him. 

Taking a sip of his tea distractedly as he eyed the flea market in the courtyard distrustfully, he immediately gagged at the filth in his mouth. A splash of milk. How was this even a splash of milk? Trevor — the idiot — had practically stuck a teabag into a full cup of warm milk, and it was disgusting. He should have known better. Trevor was the sort of parent who would buy too many half priced breads from the bakery at the end of the day and then subject him to too many meals of it for three days straight; the sort of flight attendant who would give him a cup of water and never return to clear it; the sort of fuck who would shove the entire of their dick into him without warning and expect him to take it. 

What the fuck? Louis huffed at the three pounds wasted as he dropped the cup into the next bin in sight. Trevor was such an arsehole.

-

“What’re you doing this Friday?” Niall asked the moment Louis set his bag down in the canteen, still affected by Trevor the idiot. “Bressie’s friend’s DJ-ing in Jungle and he got us onto the guest list.” 

Louis felt his lips curl at the question. “You're going right? Because maybe you guys might be inspired and finally start fucking afterwards.” He said in jest as they joined the queue for food. Jungle was the hottest gay club near their university, and the last time he’d been there, the sex had been so good, he had blacked out. Too bad that George could hardly message to save his life. Reading _“U lk so gd, I wan 2 fck u so hard dat u cry”_ while sexting had killed the boner he had for the other boy forever. 

“Of course I'm going. Are you daft? Also, please stop projecting your relationship with Harry onto Bressie and mine. It creeps me out.” 

Louis looked towards Liam for help. Sighing heavily at the silent nod of agreement from the other, he dropped the tray onto the rail heavily. Fucking traitors. “I’ll have you know that I’m still tender from my break up with David, and will not stand for such disrespect,” he proclaimed as he reached for the pizza. 

“Please, it's not disrespect when David was a farce. We’ve been over this, Louis,” Liam interjected as they moved along the line. 

“Yes, we have, Liam. But I still don’t think that you understand that while I was in love with David, I was not ready for that level of commitment.” He dropped the mango salad onto his tray sharply with an air of finality. 

“Lou, you guys were together for ten months. Meeting the parents at ten months isn’t a commitment,” the boy persisted and Louis made a face as he inhaled as loudly as possible, the weight on his chest like the other’s judgement. 

“And you made him skype your mum during the first month,” Niall interjected as they paid for their food, his own laden with too many carbs for a single person. Louis used to be jealous of the Irish boy’s metabolism rate, but he had quickly learnt to overcome it. He wasn’t suited for a life of bitterness.

“No one made him do anything! We were hanging out, Daisy called, I picked up, he said hi. That’s it.” Louis sat down with a huff. “Really, do you guys ever think about how paranoid you are? Harry and I are platonic childhood friends. David and I were in love, but we were looking for different things, so we ended our relationship civilly—like adults. Not that you guys would understand, I mean,” he gestured at them, indicating their entire conversation. 

“I don’t think you even hear yourself at all,” Liam began carefully, his eyes darting to Niall for support. The blond boy shook his head, slurping around his spaghetti noisily and refusing to partake in the nonsense again. Liam looked at the ceiling, as if praying for strength before forging on alone. “You’ve been talking about 2.1 children and settling down in the countryside since I’ve met you. David was looking for the same thing, but you bailed. That’s not normal, Louis. I know you hate it when we tell you what to do, and that you can’t see it, but you have genuinely been sabotaging your relationships because you know, deep inside your blind little skull, that Harry’s the one.” 

Louis refused to sulk. It annoyed him whenever Liam tried to pre-empt his responses. It took away the satisfaction of a good rebuttal. “Harry and I really aren’t anything, but whatever you say, Leemo.” He moved onto mixing his salad with his fork vindictively. He hated it when people kept trying to pair him and Harry off. They were more than a couple; they were soulmates, in the whole complex Plato sense, where it occasionally felt like they were a single person split into two bodies. He knew the things Harry liked, and Harry knew how to welcome him home just by reading his face. 

They fell together effortlessly, and he hated holidays where he would reach for his tea waking up only to find it absent, and turn to tell the other boy his funny thought only to find him missing. Thankfully, Harry only lived a street away. Even during holidays back home, they would fall into the same routine, living in the same bed. 

“So are you and Zayn going to Jungle?” Louis asked during the lull of Niall’s complaints about the complexity of his music engineering assignments. 

“Of course,” Liam replied simply, a smile on the corner of his lips. Louis nodded calmly before giving up and giggling to himself. Liam and his boyfriend, Zayn, spiced their sex life up with jealousy and angry sex. Louis himself enjoyed collecting karmic points by dancing on and gyrating against Zayn in clubs. It also helped that Zayn was pretty, which would get them offers of free drinks after their display. 

“Well, I’m in then. We haven’t been out in a while,” Louis decided after a short consideration as Niall cheered. “Maybe I’ll find a George 2.0 that can type properly, or a David 2.0 that wants what I want.” He waved a hand at both of his friends’ disapproval. He was tired of _that_ conversation. 

-

“So how was the project meeting?” Louis asked as he set the pan of paella in the middle of the table. Boyfriend Luke had been frightened away by the talk of babies, but Louis had picked up so much from the culinary nutrition student during their two month long relationship in his first year of university. The skills had come useful when Harry and him had moved out of the dormitories together in their second year. 

“Thanks,” Harry said as Louis took over the other’s empty plate and began serving the curly haired boy. “And it was strangely productive. We actually finished the report during the five hours, and we’re now just left with the slides.” 

Louis’ brows raised in similar disbelief. As a drama student, he never had the worries of pressing deadlines and forty page appendixes, but he was familiar with Harry’s aversion of group meetings that often circled around finding a consensus and direction. 

“Yeah, it was odd. And this is really good,” Harry hummed around his spoon as Louis beamed brightly. 

“Good enough for you to have it for two more meals?” He gestured towards the pan, filled with more than enough food for two. The other boy grinned with a nod, dimple settling in deep on his left cheek. With their tight budgets, they had opted to eat at home before going to Jungle with their friends, and as per their tradition, Louis had cooked too much to allow for leftovers. 

“Do you want me to cook again next week? You have three reports and a presentation due.” 

Harry frowned as he went through his schedule mentally. “Oh shit. I’ve forgotten about the individual report.” 

Louis hummed with a careless shrug. They had a schedule of trading chores every week, and Harry was in charge of washing the dishes and cleaning the bathroom this week, while Louis had to cook and buy the groceries. The list of chores had expanded after they moved out of the dormitories, but they had it down to a science now. They would clean the flat together during the weekends, and Harry would do the laundry due to Louis’ indignant aversion of it. Louis was instead in charge of putting the clothes away after. 

“Yeah, that’d be good. I’ll be too busy to cook next week,” Harry acquiesced after a short consideration. “Do we still have ice cream? I’ve been craving for something cold since my second class,” the curly haired boy asked when his plate was empty. 

“Ice cream before alcohol?” Louis laughed as he got up, heading for the freezer. “You’re so wild, Harold,” he teased as he popped the lid open, accepting a spoon from his friend. Settling onto the counter, he offered the other boy the first mouthful as he washed the dishes. 

“When are we meeting the boys?”

“We’re leaving in forty minutes,” Louis replied instead as he folded his legs for Harry to return yesterday’s plates to the cupboard. THe boy nodded before drying his hands on the hand towel. 

“I feel like we haven’t stayed out late in ages. It’s like university is crazier on the assignments side instead of the partying like they advertised.” Louis laughed at that comment. Apart from his dates, he pretty much led an incredibly dull life with Harry, working opposite each other on their wide study desk, or settling in for a night of Netflix with him. They had been marathoning Criminal Minds for a while now, hampered by the other’s busy schedule. 

“Yeah, I’ll attest to that alright.” He hopped down from the counter in a smooth move as Harry returned the ice cream to the freezer. “Are you gonna pick someone up tonight?” he asked.

Harry appeared to think about his answer on the way to their bedroom. “I don’t think so. I don’t even think that I’m going to drink much. A little tipsy and that’s it. I’m too tired and I still have reports to finish tomorrow. Are you?” 

Louis pondered about it for a moment as he opened his wardrobe. He wasn’t surprised that the other boy wasn’t going to pick anyone up. Harry didn’t date much; instead choosing to focus on maintaining his first class honours and finding obscure music online to play during his slot on the campus radio. His sexual preferences swung both ways, and his previous relationship with a girl from his class had lasted for three months during the second year. They also had an agreement to never bring non-platonic interests into their flat, but it wasn’t even convenient anyway, with the single queen bed in their shared bedroom. 

“Probably not, I guess? I mean I’m looking for something serious now, and after George, I’ve kind of lost confidence in meeting intelligent people in clubs, you know.” 

Harry’s eyes lit up at the mention—he had always found George absolutely hilarious. “That’s not very fair, Lou! George was just a simple boy, and you’re a very complex individual with a long list of criteria,” he teased before frowning when his eyes returned to his clothes. “Do you know what I should wear? Do I have time for a shower?” 

Louis peered at the other boy’s wardrobe before breaking into a grin at the easy decision. “This is good,” he said as he reached out to take hold of a leather jacket. “You’ll look like a bad daddy in it.” 

Harry gave him a look of derision. “What even is a bad daddy?” the boy asked incredulously as he returned it into back to its original spot. Harry had a meticulous system for his wardrobe, beginning from his cut-offs, then his jeans, vests, t-shirts, blouses, sweaters, and ending with the outerwear, all of them arranged by colour from light to dark within their own categories. 

“You know, like a badass daddy? Like ‘I’m gonna fuck you over for looking at my baby the wrong way’ sort of thing.” Louis grinned impishly as he waggled his brows, flapping the sleeve of the leather jacket about in encouragement. 

“I don’t think that that’s a real thing, Lou.” 

“No, it is, like—” Louis pretended to scowl at the other boy. 

“That’s silly looking,” Harry objected as he began to giggle anyway. 

“No, it’s not silly looking! I’m a drama student,” Louis complained as he pulled the leather jacket out before thrusting it against the other’s chest with an air of finality. “Wear it. You’ve only worn it once and it costs more than a hundred pounds. Daddy insists,” he demanded as he steeled his expression once more. 

Harry rolled his eyes with a sigh. “You’re ridiculous. Should I take a quick shower?” 

Louis considered the time for a moment. “If you want to? Not your hair though. We don’t have time for that,” Louis replied as he picked out plain white shirt and a change of underwear for the other boy. 

Harry mumbled a quick thanks before heading for the bathroom. 

-

“Harry!” Louis chirped brightly into his phone the moment the call connected. He was back in the toilets after ditching his hook up who had wanted to move their business to his flat. 

“Are you okay?” Harry responded immediately and Louis sighed as he leaned against the sink. 

He was fine, not even tipsy, having just cleared his bladder. He cupped the mouthpiece of his phone with a frown at the cubicles. One of the three couples having sex was being particularly loud and the background noise was awful. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you done?” he asked.

“Just done.” Louis snorted at the information. “I’m outside. I’ll wait right at the entrance? Have you seen the other boys?” 

Louis shrugged to himself as he left the toilet immediately. It didn’t really matter anyway. Zayn and Liam had probably returned home for a round of angry sex, and Niall was hopefully getting it on with Bressie. “I’ll—” Louis began to reply, yelling into the phone as he crossed the club, heading for the exit, before realising how silly it was and ending the call. 

“I’ll drop them a text,” he said immediately when he saw Harry, the other boy’s curls looser than they were when the night began. Ignoring the ringing in his ears from the sudden change in volume, he tapped away at his phone while Harry rang for an Uber. 

“So, how was it?” Louis began conversationally when he finally pocketed his phone. “Daddy,” he added when he remembered, raising a brow at the curly haired boy’s outerwear. Harry rolled his eyes while he watched the little icon of their car nearing their location. 

“Well, nobody wanted to buy me a drink because I looked like a daddy... What the fuck? I had to—” The boy halted in his complaint as he made an exaggerated, frightened face, curling in upon himself. Louis pressed the back of his hand against his forehead as he laughed uncontrollably at the silliness of the expression. 

“So after a really long while, a really huge guy came over and when he was paying, I noticed how small his hands were.” 

Louis bent over as he slapped his thighs at his childhood friend’s indignance, internally thinking about how shallow they both were. 

“Stop laughing, you arsehole. It’s all your fault!” Louis stumbled at the push without relenting on the humiliation of his friend. “But I really wanted the drink, so I continued to flirt while worrying about my exit. And then the group chat for my project buzzed! I was so grateful, I swear. So I pretended that my cat had vomited over the carpet and I had to return home to take care of him.” 

Louis was weak-kneed at the atrocity of it all. Harry always had the capability to make every situation ten times more awkward in his head. 

“So afterwards I came back, trying to smoulder, when I found another boy. We got it done at the alley, and I was wondering what to do about him again and then you called. That’s it.” 

Louis had tears in his eyes when their ride finally arrived. Harry greeted the sixty-plus year old driver while Louis struggled to catch his breath. “Oh god, don’t ever put Harold and smoulder in the same sentence. Oh my god, I cannot unsee that mental image,” Louis finally managed as he wiped his eyes, voice weak from laughing so hard. 

Harry gave him a blank look of distaste. “How about you?”

Louis sighed deeply at the question. “I went with the first guy that came up, and he was all grizzly and possessive, which I liked, but then he looked like a young Ben Affleck.” 

“Oh no, how terrible,” Harry commented in a dry tone, his dimple carved into his cheek. 

“Watch that tone, Styles. But that’s not even the worst, because he drops money like water.” 

“How awful,” Harry responded and Louis did not deign to address the blatant insubordination. 

“I mean, he was a student, but he was bought me two drinks. That’s probably more than thirty? And he didn’t even touch his! Absolutely horrible. I mean, how do you even trust people like that with finances in the future?” Louis gesticulated his disapproval with his hands. “And the climax of this clusterfuck? I tried to go down on him but I almost brained myself because I was tipsy. So he sucked me off and I—” Louis made a quick move with his hands, pretending to jerk the air off. 

Harry knocked his hand against the glass window in laughter. “You really wanted to suck a dick, tonight, didn’t you?” 

Louis nodded with a miserable pout. After breaking up with David more than a month ago, he hadn’t fucked anyone yet, and he genuinely missed the familiar weight of a dick in his mouth. He wanted to circle his tongue around the swollen tip and hear his partner moan under his ministrations. He enjoyed the power of making boys putty with his mouth. And Possessive Stranger had such a nice, curved dick. Louis sighed to himself. “The night was awful, wasn’t it?” he asked with a wry shake of his head. 

Harry nodded as he tapped the ball of his wrist. Louis turned his hand over, immediately comforted by the familiar size of Harry’s yeti hands. 

“We should never go out again. It’s such a waste of time,” he continued as Harry rested his head onto his shoulder. 

Harry hummed in agreement as Louis squeezed his hand lightly. “Think about how many episodes of Criminal Minds we could finish if we stayed up ‘til three and watched them really quickly.” 

Louis laughed under his breath in agreement, eyelids heavy as he watched the street lamps zoom past in the night. 

\- 

Louis beamed at his date the moment the waiter left with their order. Zayn had set him up with James from his Victorian Literature class, insisting that the other was ‘just his type.’ 

It was hard to admit, but Zayn was actually pretty competent. James had a mop of curly hair, and that was an immediate check on Louis' book. What a sure fire way to stand out from the crowd with Harry’s twenty year old hairstyle. And the match of blond hair with green eyes and sculpted eyebrows contributed a whole lot to that effect. 

“I really like the swoop in your hair,” James began as he leaned in, resting his chin on his hands. Louis’ hand immediately rose to touch his hair. 

“I do not have a swoop!” he defended hotly, halfway to changing his impression about the other boy. 

“Yeah, you do, over here,” the blond haired boy reached over to move his hands over the spot he was referring to. “Can you feel it?” 

Louis shifted his eyes to focus on the awfully huge flowers on the other’s button down, finally deciphering the ‘swoop’ the boy was referring to. He had fallen asleep immediately after his shower yesterday, and his hair hadn’t dried the right way. Swoop didn’t even cover it. He had gone about feeling like Arnold from Hey Arnold! the entire day. 

“You’re not supposed to point out my bad hair. That’s not good date etiquette,” Louis sulked as he flung the other’s rubbish lid sized hand away. 

“No, you genuinely look good. Like those parrots with the huge—” The boy stuck his fingers behind his head before releasing a horrible squawking sound. Louis barked with laughter, mortified by the parallel, and the silliness of the boy across him. 

“You’re not supposed to say things like that!” Louis repeated. “You’re supposed to tell me that I have nice eyes, a great sense of humour, a—” 

“It’ll never be as good as mine,” the blond haired boy interrupted. Louis gaped at the insubordination. “I mean, you already know that you have nice eyes; sparkling blue oceans, azure skies, deoxygenated blood, so I’m not going there. But no, the sense of humour’s mine. I have a mean list of knock-knock jokes.” 

What the fuck? Louis’ eyeballs were hurting from being rolled heaven-wards for the Nth time. And he hated knock-knock jokes. He had had an exposure of too many bad ones growing up and he was permanently scarred. And who was this overgrown man child with curly hair, awful leaps of logic, a pocketful of bad jokes and a flamboyant dress sense? Louis was annoyed and simultaneously attracted, and the outcome was a lethal formula for frustration. Louis leaned forward, already equipped with a biting remark. 

-

“Oh, it looks so good,” Louis cheered when the tiramisu arrived. “Are you sure that you don’t want some?” 

James made a face as he gestured to the plate before him. “Do you genuinely think?” 

Louis shrugged without concern. “Well, a little in moderation is always good,” he commented idly as he sunk his fork slowly into the layers of ladyfingers and mascarpone custard, a satisfied smile on his lips. 

“Yeah, a little in moderation is always good,” the blond haired boy repeated with an eye roll as he stabbed the lasagne before him. 

Louis frowned at the other with the creamy taste of espresso and liqueur on his tongue. “Do you not want it?” he asked in confusion.

Before David was sports and physical activity student Dan, who had been one of his shorter relationships, having broken up with him after two weeks for the reason that Louis was ruining his perfect physique. It was a sore spot for him, especially when David had yelled about the same topic during their breakup fight. 

Why didn’t they want a bite of Louis’ main course in the first place? It always fouled his mood whenever his boyfriends complained about his kindness. He didn’t give his food to everyone, and it wasn’t too tall of an order to expect them to finish it when Harry always had space for desserts after sharing his food. 

“It’s not that I don’t want it, but you left me a quarter of it!” 

Louis frowned at the plate in scrutiny. “Is it too little?” he asked, still confused and unable to comprehend the vein of their conversation. 

“No, it isn’t, Louis. It’s quite a lot when you’ve already had your own meal.” 

“But it’s always nice to have a little variety,” Louis explained, trying to be polite even though the entire topic was a complete waste of his time. 

“Yeah, a little variety is good, but not this—” James mimed a whole thirty centimetres, which was completely ridiculous, in Louis’ opinion. “—much.” 

“But Harry always wants this much variety.” Louis sulked as he fiddled his fork along the half mark of his tiramisu. James had managed to seem so sensible throughout their date, and it was disappointing to know this late that he didn’t have his head screwed on right, just like the others. 

“Your childhood friend?” 

Louis pouted without responding, focused on pressing the ladyfingers he had dropped into the leftover half with his fork. 

“Are you going to finish it? Is it bad?” the blond haired boy asked when he noticed his actions. 

Louis shrugged, suddenly overcome by a heavy fatigue. “It’s not bad. I’m just leaving this for Harry,” he said, wishing that he had instead stayed at home for a Netflix marathon.

“Does Harry like tiramisu?” 

Louis looked up suspiciously. “What are you getting at, James?” he asked, his tone harsh, hackles rising at the question. 

“Nothing. I was just wondering if Harry liked tiramisu.”

“Harry likes desserts in general,” he said carefully as he squinted at the boy distrustfully, cataloguing every minute movement. The other boy only hummed evenly before asking, “I’m not getting another date, am I?” 

Louis refused to flinch at the candidness of the question. 

“I think I can pinpoint when I lost the opportunity,” the boy continued without waiting for a reply. “Right about when I stopped being as familiar as hanging out with Harry, you decided that it wasn’t going well. When we were trading stories about dating, it was obvious why you had a string of failed ones. You’ve already decided that Harry’s the one for you, and you find fault with everyone that isn’t him. Do you even notice that you bring him up in every other conversation? You speak as if everything in your life was lived in relation to Harry’s. Can’t you see that it’s not normal?”

Louis couldn’t help but think that that was an unfair accusation. How would his stories not have Harry in them when he spent the majority of his days with the other boy? 

“Zayn isn’t that cruel, you know. I actually was the one who asked for the date. I’ve seen you waiting for him a few times, and I wanted to know you. Zayn said that I might get a second date just because I looked like and was as weird as Harry. That’s how predictable you really are, Louis.” For a moment Louis wanted to bask in the vindictive pleasure of having broken Zayn’s prediction, only to realise that he had dismissed the possibility of second date precisely because James hadn’t been completely like Harry. 

“I don’t go on dates looking for someone like Harry!” Louis retorted, lavishing in the silence between them. 

“And I don’t think that you do. You look for a lover, but subconsciously end up comparing them against Harry anyway,” James said slowly, as if searching for the best method to not startle a cornered animal. Louis despised the parallel. 

“Just think about it, genuinely. No normal person talks about babies during the first date. That’s just not good date etiquette, but you did because you subconsciously wanted to scare me off so you could righteously cry victim to a bad date with a guy that you aren’t compatible with. But no one is exactly compatible in the first place. You work to fit with each other. You talk the important things through, and agree on it. None of your dates are going to be compatible with you when the only person that you will compromise for is Harry.” 

Louis wanted to fling the remaining tiramisu at James’ smug, know-it-all face and stomp off, but he couldn’t move. His stomach was laden with the weight of a dawning horror at the sense in the other boy’s words. The narratives of Liam, Niall and Zayn were slowly combining with the blond haired boy’s to flood his brain and ooze out of his nostrils. 

He had been unfair to the boys that he had dated. They had been stand-ins for Harry, but how could he—? 

He could remember the damp heat of his thigh during the summer when they were fourteen. The morning was warm, and his left thigh was between Harry’s under the covers. He had opened his eyes to see a sleeping Harry, and had wondered how nice it would have been to kiss Harry on the lips. 

That was the first and last time that the thought had crossed his mind. Harry was his soulmate; a limb that he could not lose by falling into a romantic relationship which he would inevitably ruin. And while their friendship continued to progress, he had subconsciously distilled his favourite parts of Harry and tried to replace the gap in his life by expecting other boys to fit into his mould. And when people came close to it like David did, he would push them out of his life. When the boys tried to mention his avoidance tactics, he would end the discussion by the sheer force of will or by physically tormenting them akin to punishments in operant conditioning to dissuade the similar behaviour. But James had nothing to lose by forcefully peeling apart his layers, and Louis couldn’t help but feel that he was at an impasse. He had no way to return to his enforced ignorance, and most importantly, he couldn’t fuck their friendship up by doing something as silly as confessing his feelings. 

“You can’t—” Louis began, his voice hoarse. “Zayn has been cruel to lend your knife to injure me,” he began calmly, ignoring the theatricality of his words. He always fell back to the most basic and effective way to express himself and injure people when he was desperate, relying on metaphors, woeful self-victimization, and bitterness typical of the climaxes in plays to defend himself. 

“If I was blind, at least I was happy. Does my present helplessness please you?” Louis seethed as he got onto his feet, his jacket over his arm. Reaching into his wallet for a twenty pound note, he was careful to not slam it on the table, even in his fury; instead slipping it under his half-eaten tiramisu. Money had always been such a sensitive thing with dignities and egos at stake. Oh the irony, he couldn’t help but commiserate. 

“I had a nice evening, thank you,” he said tightly before stalking out of the quaint little restaurant. The food had been good, but he didn’t envision himself returning any time soon. 

-

It was still a little to ten when he returned home, but the flat was already dark. Harry had already settled for a night in with an oversized shirt and a pair of briefs before he left, and Louis felt his heart twinge at the other boy’s fatigue from his hellish week. Stripping off his dress shirt wearily as he headed for the bedroom, he winced internally at the inevitable disapproval he would receive from Harry the next day. The other boy had killed his habit of strewing his clothes about by nagging throughout the first year, but Louis was too exhausted—both mentally and physically—to care. He just wanted to... He paused at the sight of a figure on his half of the bed. 

Sighing as he climbed under the unfamiliar half of the blanket, Louis paused as he appraised the small hairs on the back of Harry’s neck. Reaching out to comb them carefully, he sidled closer with a weary sigh, chest heavy from the weight of his shameful, unmasked emotions for Harry. If that on his fourteenth summer had been a sexual awakening with compliments from his puberty, then how long had his feelings for Harry ran deeper than that a friend should harbour for another? 

Louis curled his body against Harry’s, marvelling for the millionth time at how easy their bodies fitted together. Pressing his chest against Harry’s back, he felt himself relaxing at the familiar scent of Harry’s fruity shampoo against his nose. Slowly sliding his arm around Harry’s front, he was acutely aware of his hands, the sensations, and the trust of Harry that he had betrayed by laying down with him with the awareness of his feelings. 

Louis tried to pull away, only to start when Harry shifted instinctively in sleep, trapping him instead. Louis felt his chest heave from guilt, self-despise, and shame. He had tainted their innocent relationship with his feelings, and before he could control himself, he had broken into a sob. Louis tried to stifle it, biting his lips as he pressed his eyes shut, but his sorrow refused to relent, his stubborn body shaking as he unwittingly tightened his hold on Harry. 

“Louis?” 

Louis made an animalistic sound at the shock of being discovered. He pulled his hand backwards sharply as he pressed it against his eyes to stop himself from crying, to no avail. 

“Louis,” Harry repeated, the thickness of sleep fading sharply as shock and anxiety registered. “Louis, what happened? What did he do?” the boy insisted, placing a careful arm on the other’s shoulders. 

Louis shrunk back as if stung, the sympathy making his tears fall faster. 

“I’m going to switch the lights on,” Harry mumbled as he stumbled out of bed, ignoring the feeble protests of his friend. The last time he had seen his friend cry had been years ago, when they had both been boys concerned with being assigned to different classes in primary school.  
Louis ducked under the covers when the lights came on, ashamed by his behaviour. He wanted to stop, but the humiliation he had experienced tonight, combined the disgust he felt towards himself wouldn’t disperse. 

“Louis, please tell me so I can help,” Harry pleaded as he tried to tug the duvet away. Louis held on stubbornly, pressing his face into it to muffle his noises, muscles taut with stark lines of pain. 

“Louis, you’re scaring me, I don’t know what to do,” the boy begged, his voice thickening as his eyes began to prickle in frustration at his impotence. 

Louis shook his head as he struggled to breathe, his nose stuffed, his shudders subsiding while his tears continued to fall hotly. Harry rushed to get a towel for his friend to blow his nose on.

\- 

Louis felt light-headed when he finally calmed. He was embarrassed by his outburst, still ashamed of his feelings, but he felt a little calmer, as if consoled by having repented. 

“What happened, Lou?” Harry attempted once more as his fingers continued to comb through his friend’s hair. Louis swallowed as he turned his face on the other’s lap, burrowing into the curve of his friend’s hip. 

“Did he touch you inappropriately?” Harry ventured, his voice steely, grateful when Louis failed to react to the statement. 

“Did he insult you?” he attempted, frowning when his friend shifted. “Oh, baby. What did that bastard say?” 

Louis kneaded the corner of Harry’s pillow in his fist without responding.

“I’m not going to let this go, Lou. I haven’t seen you cry for years. I need to know what he said so I’ll know how many punches he deserves. And if you don’t tell me what he said, I’ll go and punch it out of him anyway. You’ll be using your savings to bail me out tomorrow.” 

Louis snorted despite himself at the ridiculous image of Harry engaging in physical violence to settle a score. The other boy had always been the underhanded revenge sort.

“Maybe they’ll think that I’m too bad to be posted on bail,” Harry continued, bolstered by the boy’s response to his rambling. “Will you visit me even when I’m bald?” 

Louis slapped his friend’s side at the horrible suggestion. The curls had always been one of his favourite parts of Harry. 

“I can promise that I’ll still look good though. The barber said that I had a good head once.” Harry’s voice was tinged with nostalgic pride. Louis focused on tracing idle lines on Harry’s hip instead, exhausted from all the crying. 

“Why don’t you write it to me instead? I’ll try to guess,” Harry joked. 

Louis froze at the suggestion. He was too cowardly to admit it aloud, and there was still plausible deniability if Harry guessed right. Louis scolded himself when he noticed the slight tremble of his hand. Fuck it; he drew a line down with his nail before pausing to consider whether to continue. Plausible deniability, he reminded himself as he drew a line to the left upwards, before tracing the top arc of a semi-circle to the right and repeating it. Entranced as he finished with a line down to the left, Louis was lost in his mission to notice that Harry’s hand in his hair had stopped. 

Drawing a line down before tracing the bottom half of the circumference of a circle, he finished by trailing vertically upwards. He poked the flesh with an amused huff as he shifted his head in Harry’s lap to a more comfortable position. 

“Louis,” Harry asked as the other boy replied with a soft, contented hum without opening his eyes. “Did you just tell me that you love me?” 

Louis shot up in shock. “You caught that?” Oops, there went the possibility of plausible deniability then.

Harry’s eyes were possibly as wide as his. “You’re really in love with me?” Harry clarified as Louis’ eyes darted towards the open door. 

“No! No running. We have to talk about this!” 

Louis yelped as he fell over suddenly, pinned down by the weight of the other’s body. “I wouldn’t, I promise, just get off!” Louis thrashed for his life under the yeti. 

“Pinky promise?” Harry insisted as he reached his little finger upwards for a shake. Louis sighed at the antics of the man-child before finally relenting, rolling his eyes when the curly haired boy helped him up. 

“So, the agenda for this talk. One, what James said to you. Two, why you were crying. Three, the possibility of a non-platonic relationship between us. Four, any loose ends. Some ground rules are, erm... honesty. There’s no need for embarrassment because it’s just me, and erm, respect.” The curly haired boy nodded to himself. “Anything to add?” 

Louis shook his head, impressed by Harry’s structured approach to informal discussions. His friend was such a business student sometimes. 

-

Harry’s lips had disappeared completely by the time Louis was finished with point two, a tight, grim disapproval on his face. “I’m sorry that you felt naked before that arsehole,” Harry began as Louis made a careless noise as he shrugged in dismissal. “It’s not okay, Lou. He wasn’t right to confront you with his frustration when you turned him down, regardless of the motive behind your reasons. He pulled the rug from under you, and that’s not okay. I’ll punch him thrice tomorrow.”

Louis collapsed exaggeratedly onto the bed with a sigh, tired and embarrassed of confessing his idiocy to Harry. 

“Okay, my turn. I’ve never thought of dating you before. It sounds awful, doesn’t it? I’ve always ignored what people said because I didn’t want it to affect our relationship, so—” The curly haired boy shrugged to himself. “But I do find you sexually attractive,” Harry commented as he poked the side of Louis’ shapely bottom playfully. “But our friendship’s always been blurry between platonic and more, and you’ve always been a constant in my life. So if we got together, our dynamics wouldn’t change much, would they?” 

Louis frowned as he considered the idea. “There will be more intimacy, I guess?” 

Harry hummed in agreement. “And just that, I think. We could have talked this over. You shouldn’t have been afraid to tell me.” 

Louis felt his cheeks burn as he turned to look the other way. Despite growing up with Harry attached to his side, he had never been good with asking for help whenever he faced any problems. He would always find a way to get through them somehow, like how he had taken care of his sisters while his mother struggled with her job when their father had left. 

He groaned when Harry suddenly threw a leg over him and attempted to turn him around. “You big oaf, your fat leg’s crushing me!” Louis complained, yelping when the toes of Harry’s left leg jabbed at his side. 

“So are we together now?” Harry finally asked with a faint smile when Louis deigned to look at him. 

Louis swallowed in shock at the question, eyes wide as he tried to immortalize the moment in his memory. The casualness between them, the way Harry’s curls were messier on the right than on the left, the pair of briefs that Harry was wearing at 10.49pm on the 21st of March. 

“Just like that?” he asked disbelievingly, his voice hoarse. 

Harry’s hand immediately flew up to scratch at his hairline nervously. “Do I have to get on one knee?” the curly haired boy asked, body jerking slightly as if he had intended to make a move before catching himself in time. 

“No!” Louis said as he moved closer to his... erm, boyfriend on the bed. “No you don’t have to get on your knees now. A few years later, maybe—if I haven’t beaten you to it by then.” Louis laughed as he pulled Harry to lay down beside him. 

It was strange, how right it felt to speak about the future with Harry. He had always mentioned babies, and houses with gardens to his boyfriends, but then he would always make escape routes if they didn’t. Looking at it now, it was obvious how his future had always been with Harry; the boy he had met when he was in primary school at the age of eight, the boy who had forced his way to help when Mark had left, the boy who had agreed to sharing a bed with a shrug when they were looking for flats. 

“It’s always been so easy between us, hasn’t it?” Louis asked breathlessly as he tucked a curl behind Harry’s ear carefully. 

“Yeah, it has,” Harry replied with a smile, the warm weight of his hand comforting at the back of his neck. “Lemme,” Harry began as he suddenly moved forward, eyes searching his for permission with their lips just inches apart from each other’s. Louis nodded carefully, heart stuttering in his chest as he held onto Harry’s hip for purchase. 

The kiss was warm, gentle and sweet, and Louis felt the tension slowly bleeding away from his body as he parted his lips slightly for Harry’s tongue. Kissing his best friend felt like déjà vu; as if the sensations and rhythm had always been within him, simply waiting for the right moment to surface. Losing himself in the languorous intimacy of the kiss, Louis couldn’t help but feel that he had returned home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's supposed to be part of the main story, but I was worried that the OMC focus might be too much, so I took it out. You could literally fit it back in and it'd read the same. 
> 
> I think. 
> 
>  
> 
> It's supposed to, I mean.

Louis was beaming to himself when he entered the club. Bressie’s DJ friend was more popular than they had expected, and getting to watch the frustration of the people in the queue while entering had given him such a rush to his ego. They had pre-drank along a curb, splitting a bottle of vodka between the six of them before giggling and pushing each other on their walk to their destination. Louis wasn’t tipsy though, having anticipated the free drinks that he would get, but his mouth was already looser than usual, and laughing about his exes with Zayn had been fun.  
“Let’s dance.” He grabbed the dark haired boy the moment they reached the interior of the club, already feeling the urge in his limbs to move along to the music. 

“Nah, gonna get some drinks first. I’ll find you in a bit?” Zayn declined as Louis pouted to himself before turning to Harry. 

“Daddy?” Louis asked, laughing when the curly haired boy rolled his eyes in response to the address. “Come protect baby.” He laughed at the other’s weary expression before pulling him along towards the heart of the dancefloor. 

Dancing didn’t always come easy to Louis; it was his lead role in a musical in sixth form that made the difference. After practising for months, he had learnt to relax his limbs, listen to the beat, and move his body along to his partner’s. Ignoring the press of the bodies against his as he began to rock his hips along the music, he did a body roll with an arm around Harry’s shoulder, laughing at his friend’s obvious discomfort. 

Harry had sprung up when he was seventeen, and while he had reclaimed his limbs after, dancing was an uphill task for the curly haired boy, limited to awkward shifts of his body weight from feet to feet. Turning to press back against Harry, he wrapped his arms around the other boy’s neck as he circled his hips, trying to get the other to follow his movement. The other boy complained but played along anyway, trying his best but ending up thrusting his hips without any direction. 

“Lou.” Harry suddenly leaned in, his curls tickling Louis’ bare neck. “I’m going to get hard if you continue to rut against me,” he said, his voice devoid of any inflection as if commenting about the weather. Louis laughed as he pressed backwards because he was a little shit like that. It happened all the time between them anyway, with inconvenient morning woods that had become commonplace between them. Sweeping his hands down, Louis bent forwards, pushing his bum high against the other as he slowly rose to stand, feeling like a complete vixen as the lights strobed overhead. 

Bending over once more, Louis began cackling as he began to twerk against his best friend, thrusting his butt against Harry’s crotch area in sincere torture. He had looked up Youtube tutorials after Miley Cyrus’ infamous VMA performances, and it had paid off, gifting him a signature move to use on hapless boys. Yelping when he nearly fell over at Harry’s push of his butt, Louis glared at his friend in disapproval. 

“I’m going to get more drinks. I’m not rewarded enough to help you get boys,” Harry yelled into his ear in explanation over the electronic beats in the club. “Stay safe; call me when you’re done.” 

Louis pouted, swatting his friend’s finger vehemently when the other bopped him on the nose before leaving. The audacity of the curly headed yeti! Louis huffed to himself, startling when a warm body immediately pressed up against his back. 

Leaning back, he shuddered when the stranger moved to press flush against him. He could feel the stranger’s warm breath against his neck, and he felt light-headed at the hard indent of the other’s erection at the small of his back. It had been so long since he had felt such a primal want coursing through his veins, and his belly was contracting from the excitement of feeling wanted. Rolling his hips as the beat changed, he suppressed a shiver at the stranger’s kiss on his neck while their bodies moved in synchrony. 

“You’re so beautiful,” the stranger groaned, his voice husky as he ran his hands down Louis’ torso. Louis felt goosebumps break along the trail of the other’s hands. 

“Everyone’s looking at you,” he continued, grabbing his chin to look up when the brown haired boy didn’t respond. Louis’ movements stuttered when he registered the gazes on him. The stranger continued to dance, undulating his hips in time with Louis’. “But only I get to have you,” he said, biting into the curve of the boy’s neck. Louis groaned at the possessiveness of the stranger. He had discovered the kink over the internet during the budding stages of his relationship with his right hand. 

“Let me get you a drink,” the stranger said suddenly as he squeezed Louis’ waist. Louis shrugged as he turned, getting the first opportunity to put a face to the muscular body. He sighed internally at the disappointment. Possessive Stranger had a head of dark, cropped hair, artfully mussed at his crown, and with his square jaw and shapely brows, PS’ face lacked personality. Good looking, but forgettable. Enticed by the free drink anyway, Louis went along with the hand on the small of his back. 

Louis continued to scrutinize PS’ appearance as the bartender prepared their drinks. It was too dark to figure out the colour of the boy’s eyes. 

“So, who was the boy before me?” PS asked while Louis strained to decipher his words, his shirt slightly damp from the heat on the dance floor. Frowning at his question before remembering Harry’s assistance, he replied the question carelessly, beaming when his Long Island Iced Tea was set at the counter. 

“Thirsty?” 

Louis nodded quickly as he relished in the coolness sliding down his throat. 

“You’re so cute when you drink like that.” 

Louis rolled his eyes internally; he was _always_ adorable, please. Outwardly, he peered up from between his lashes, hollowing his cheeks prettily and giving PS a preview of what he had in store, pouting when the sharp, hollow sound of his straw sucking the last of his drink registered in his ears. How was it even possible? 

“Do you want another?”

Louis frowned at the offer. The drinks in Jungle were ridiculously pricey, and their previous round had already set PS—an obvious student—back about thirty pounds. 

“I’ll get you another,” PS offered quickly as he moved to hold his hand, not minding the cold wetness of it from the condensation of his cup. PS’s drink was untouched. 

“Aren’t you going to drink yours?” Louis asked as he pointed at the cup sweating onto the countertop. 

“It’s a Sex on the Beach,” PS replied, and Louis sighed at the impossibility of holding a proper conversation. The dark haired boy pushed his cup over. 

Louis appraised it for a moment before shrugging to himself and leaning in for a taste. He pulled a face before returning it. “It has no alcohol in it!” he yelled with a shake of his head. What a waste of money. It was now obvious that PS was prone to bad decisions—apart from dancing up against the fittest boy in the club. The boy seemed to find his comment cute anyway, judging from the squeeze of his hand. 

Louis only beamed when his new drink came. Reaching for the straw, Louis nearly missed it, his fingers clumsy when PS crowded against him for the second time that night, pressing the imprint of his dick against him. Louis fumbled to push the straw back into his mouth when the other began to rut against him. It seemed Pavlovian, hard dick in his vicinity of his arse, and he would think about hopping on. Finishing his drink quickly while contemplating downing PS’s as well before dismissing it, Louis pulled the stranger towards the toilets, smiling to himself like a cat that got the cream… or well, a cat that would get the cream.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 1: Harry and Louis are dating. They're childhood friends and have been dating basically forever. The only problem? They're the only ones who don't realize it. Louis' got all these weird relationship quirks that scare people away, and Harry's just never been all that interested in anyone, so his relationships are few and short-lived. Their friends, all of whom have known them for years, are going crazy trying to get them to realize that they're in love, have always been in love, and will never find a more perfect match. Side pairings of whoever you want, just want lots of silliness and weird things Lou does in relationships that turn out to be his way of avoiding commitment. Eventually they get their shit together, but not before leaving everyone around them hopeless that they'd ever catch on.
> 
> I hope that you liked it! I apologize for being late, whelp.


End file.
